


burning pile

by zileunq



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angry Lance (Voltron), Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Anxiety, Bulimia, Depression, Eating Disorders, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Lance (Voltron) Has Panic Attacks, Lance (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sad Lance (Voltron), Self-Harm, klance isnt the focus btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zileunq/pseuds/zileunq
Summary: Lance relapses. Fighting aliens in space doesn't exactly help.*TRIGGERS IN TAGS *
Relationships: Allura & Lance (Voltron), Coran & Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance & Lance's Family (Voltron), Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance & Shiro (Voltron), Lance & Voltron Paladins, Lance (Voltron) & Everyone
Comments: 14
Kudos: 147





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. Please, if you're suffering from a bad relationship with food, know that you are the only one who gets to define your self-worth.  
> Don't let anyone make u feel like you're not in control.

_I’m not the problem. It’s everyone else. They’re what’s wrong with the world._

People judge you for just existing, for just trying to get through the day. 

“Wow, you ate all that food really quickly. Are you okay?” 

Lance was doing fine that morning. Completely fine. Until he heard those words. It reminded him of everything he tried to bury in the deepest part of his brain. _It’s not your fault for getting triggered,_ he tried to tell himself. But his head wasn’t cooperating with him. It’s funny how people can mean the best for you but show the complete opposite. It’s hilarious how your own brain doesn’t want you to be happy.

 _Yes, he was fucking okay. Yes, he ate his food quickly. So what? It’s just food. Can’t he eat?_ Why is it that every second of every day, someone has to comment on the way he eats?

_You’re so stupid. And fat._

His stomach began to hurt. He tried to collect himself and clasped his hands together on his lap. He lifted his chin at Keith, who asked the question.

“I’m fine, _mullet,_ ” Lance sneered as he glared at Keith. “Why don’t you mind your own business?” 

“Jesus, Lance. Why are you being like that? I didn’t even do anything this time.” Keith shot back.

“Just...“ Lance paused. “just- shut the fuck up, Keith!” Lance stood up, almost knocking back his chair in the process. Everyone was looking at him in silence. Hunk and Shiro looked worried- there was nothing wrong with him. Pidge- she has that same look she always has on. She doesn’t care. Allura- annoyed at him. Like always. And Keith- who cares what Keith thinks? 

Lance huffed and stomped out the dining room. Once he got into the hallway, he slowed his walking down. He clenched his fists as tight as he could, feeling his fingertips pinch into his flesh. He walked into his room and sat down on the edge of his bed as he looked across the room.

“You ate all that food really quickly.”

_All that._

_All that fat you mean? All those calories? Yeah, I fucking ate that shit up._

_“Ugh!”_ Lance stood up from his bed and quickly walked to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror as he lifted up his shirt to see his stomach. He squeezed the skin on his stomach and scrunched his eyebrows together. He tried looking at himself at different angles in the mirror to convince himself that he was perfectly fine, that he looked amazing.

He doesn’t _feel_ amazing. He never does when he sees a mirror.

Lance kneeled in front of his toilet. He pursed his lips together. He’d come all this way, and for what? To gain all that weight back for nothing? To have something just to spit it back out again?

Lance didn't have much of a gag reflex. The first time he tried to purge he almost gave up, but then, with some more practice, he realized that he just had to shove his fingers all the way down his throat and move it around. 

_Don’t stop until it’s done,_ He told himself.

He shoved three of his fingers down his throat as he hovered over the toilet bowl. His other hand gripped the seat. Lance gagged, and almost took his fingers out. He shoved them in deeper, slowly, until he couldn’t anymore. 

_Fatass._

He moved his fingers as much as he could.

The rest was a blur. A mix of clear saliva, chunks of green goo, and maybe just a little bit of his self-worth went down the drain.

Lance flushed the toilet, stood up on shaky legs, and made his way to his bed. 

He tucked himself in, empty and full at the same time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little glimpse of Lance's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are doing well. I love you.

If you asked Lance when it all first started, he wouldn’t give you an answer.

It’s not that he didn’t know. It’s that he was ashamed. He’d been struggling for a while. 

_Lance was 5 months old when he learned to chew._

_Lance was 1 year old when he said his favorite food was garlic knots._

_Lance was 8 years old when he and his friends shared food with each other._

_Lance was 11 when he learned about eating disorders. He told himself that he would never be like that. He loved food._

_Lance was 13 years old when he realized that skinnier people were seen as more attractive by society's standards._

_Lance was 14 years old when he started to lift up his shirt and look at the fat in his stomach everytime he looked in the mirror._

_Lance was 15 years old when he started to count calories, never consuming over 1,500 in a day. The numbers would lower in time._

_Lance was 16 when he learned how to shove his fingers down his throat._

_Lance was 17 when he was taken to a doctor and hospitalized for depression, anxiety, anorexia, and bulimia. People shoved food in his mouth whether he wanted to or not. He binged the entire time he was there._

_Lance was 17 when he went back to the Garrison and acted as if nothing had happened. He got worse, cutting down his calorie intake by even more, exercising until he couldn’t feel his bones, and purging even if he ate a tiny crumb._

_Lance was 17 when he became a Paladin. Only 17 when he had a job to save the universe. He was just a kid. He still is. He's not a savior._

Lance woke up, already feeling that today was going to be a bad day. He was just so angry. At everyone, for not checking up on him, for not knowing what he's going through. He’s mad at himself, too. For not telling the truth, for letting his feelings control. It’s all his fault that he’s not getting better. All his fault for being such a burden.

Lance sat up and rubbed his palms into his eyes. He made his hands into fists.

_You can’t lose control. Not now. Not after all this._

Lance smacked his hands onto his ears.

_Shut up, shut up, shut up-_

He let out a sob. 

_Pathetic. You already shoved your fat fingers down your throat. Why stop now?_

Lance quickly got out of bed, almost tripping on his blanket. “Fuck!” He said. Lance’s breaths became more shallow each time he inhaled. His lip quivered as he put his hands back up to his ears and paced back and forth beside his bed. 

Everything was just too much right now. Too many thoughts, too many feelings, too many things to do, too bright, too loud-

“Shut up,” He whispered. _“Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid,”_

Lance caught a glimpse of glitter and abruptly stopped in front of a snow globe on his dresser. He remembered everyone giving it to him for his birthday. He took his hands off his head to grasp the snow globe. It was all of them, not in their suits, not in space, but in just regular human clothes, on the beach. Lance missed the beach. He missed Earth, and the real ground, and his family, and hugs, and people who actually cared about him.

_They don’t give a fuck about you. You stupid fucking fatass. They pity you._

Lance gripped the snow globe harder. He lifted the snow globe in his right hand, up above his head, and used as much force and anger as he could to shatter the globe. As he threw the snow globe on the floor, tears began to start trailing down his cheeks. He let out a weak laugh.

Lance stared at the fragments, breathing heavily. He bent down to pick up one of the largest shards of glass. He used his finger to trace the edges of the glass. Lance felt dizzy as he realized what he’d done. He shut his eyes as tightly as he could.

Someone knocked on Lance’s door. Panicking, Lance opened his eyes and quickly pocketed the large shard as he turned around to face whoever was at the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone checks up on Lance. Lance doesn't want help.

Lance opened the door just enough to be able to look through it. He found Shiro on the other side. 

Lance took a deep breath and smiled. “Oh. Hey Shiro,” He started. “What’s up?”

Shiro raised his eyebrows. “I heard a noise.” Are you okay?”

Lance collected his thoughts. 

_Stupid._

“Oh yeah! I just accidentally pushed the, uh,” Lance turned around, looking back at the globe, and turned back to Shiro. “I accidentally broke the snow globe when I got up this morning. Whoops!” He let out a laugh. A half-truth. He broke the snow globe. Not an accident.

“Oh,” Shiro said. “Well then, let me help you clean it up.”

Lance kept in a sigh as he opened his door all the way and stepped aside to let Shiro in. “Sure.” His smile faltered just a little.

Lance found a broom and dustpan for Shiro to use. He felt guilty for breaking the snow globe. _And so stupid._ He let his emotions control him. _Again._

“Sorry.” Lance whispered, looking at Shiro’s back as he swept up the shards.

Shiro paused and turned around. “For breaking this?” 

Lance straightened his back and nodded. “Yeah.” His voice cracking. 

_Please not right now, don’t cry, please, please, please._

Shiro set aside the broom and stood up in front of Lance. He looked at Lance. Lance didn’t look back. “It’s okay, Lance. You didn’t do it on purpose. Everyone makes mistakes.” Shiro pursed his lips as he put his left hand on Lance's shoulder. “I know how much it meant to you. We’ll get you another one.”

Lance took in a shaky breath. “i’m so sorry, really-”

“Lance.”

Lance finally made eye contact with Shiro.

“Let me finish cleaning and let’s have breakfast, okay?” 

Lance knows that the thing that Shiro is most afraid of is not being able to help the people he loves. He knows that Shiro’s tired too. 

So Lance sucks it up. He pushes away the thoughts of his appearance, of the glass in his pocket, and of the anxious feeling that today wouldn't go well at all. “Okay.” He said.

\---

Lance remembered his time in the hospital all too clearly. 

He remembered his mom taking him to the ER, the several doctors and new faces he’d seen each day and wouldn’t remember the next. He remembered falling asleep at two in the morning and waking up only a few hours later. He remembered getting full meals- more than- five hundred? No, more than six hundred calories in each meal every day. This would go on for a whole painful week. 

He remembered sticking his fingers down his throat in the bathroom not a minute after swallowing his food.

He remembered being caught by a nurse. 

He remembered refusing to eat. He remembered being restrained to his bed. He remembered people twice his size grab and tie him to the mattress. He remembered getting a tube forced down his throat. 

Lance cried as he writhed on the bed, clenching his fists to focus on his fingernails piercing into his palm instead of the food being shoved into his body. He choked on his tears- or was it the food? Was it the vomit? All of the above, probably. Lance shook violently, trying to escape the restraints. He couldn’t.

_“Please stop.” He wheezed. “I don’t want it. I’m going to throw up. Please. It hurts so much.”_

_“I’m sorry,” A nurse had said. “But this is for your well-being. We’re going to help make you healthy again.”_

_“Please! I don’t want this! Please!”_

And they didn’t stop until he was fed every last bit.

Did everyone really think that force feeling someone who didn’t want to eat would just make them suddenly want to eat? That by giving someone more of what they hate would make them love it? 

_It’s bullshit. He wasn’t okay then. Being force-fed didn’t make him okay now._

He remembered the pitying looks he received that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading !!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance/hunk/pigde friendship + a little klance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F u michelle ;)

Lance sat at the table, eyes puffy and tired. He looked down at his bowl of green goo, hoping that no one suspected anything wrong with him. He could feel Shiro sending him glances from across the table. He always cared too much. So to throw him off, Lance made a couple of jokes. Well, he didn’t have many off the top of his head, so it was just one, which resulted in a bunch of groans and small smiles. Shiro seemed to calm down a little.

Lance fed the mice as he tried to push through the fuzziness in his brain, clenching his fists to ground him. He looked at Keith from the side of his eye. Lance would never tell him this, but he actually tolerated Keith. He was a good leader, and honestly? Lance felt really guilty for yesterday. Keith had been concerned for him, and Lance just told him off. 

_I don’t want to apologize to that stupid mullet head._

_But you should. Don’t be a jerk._

_I hate him._

_No you don’t._

_Whatever. I very strongly dislike him._

Lance took his eyes off of Keith and turned to Shiro. He was already looking at him. Lance hated that look. It was the _\- I understand you guys are rivals or whatever, but apologize. Please. -_ look. Lance mentally rolled his eyes. Stupid Keith. 

Lance had eaten most of his food, mindlessly shoveling the goo into his mouth. Hopefully he had enough willpower to keep it in today. 

_Yesterday was a mistake._ He tried to tell himself.

He didn’t want to go back to spending hours a day throwing up again. He didn't want the stomach pains, or the peeling skin, or the hair loss.

Lance didn’t want to bother Hunk with his problems, even though Hunk knew almost everything about him. When Hunk and Lance were roommates back at the Garrison, they immediately clicked. Lance loved Hunk’s kind, generous personality. Without Hunk, Lance would be a mess by now. 

Sadly, there aren’t exactly trained therapists in space.

\---

Hunk had baked Lance a cake for his 16th birthday. That was when he and Pidge found out.

_“Happy Birthday Lance!” Hunk and Pidge had screamed into his ear that morning._

_Lance shrieked, opening his eyes at the pair. “What the-” He was about to yell at them until he saw the cake in Hunk's hand. Lance gasped in awe. “Oh. My. God. You guys are the best! Thank you so much!” Lance had said._

_Hunk set the cake down on the table right before Lance tackled Pidge and Hunk. They saved the cake for dinner and partied the whole day. Of course, Hunk was scared that they were being too loud and would get in trouble with Iverson, and Pidge didn’t exactly want to jump around the room and listen to music all day, but with Lance’s begging they reluctantly spent all day playing games._

_That might’ve been Lance’s favorite birthday. Or, well, one of them. But that night, after dinner and cake, Hunk heard Lance gagging through the door.  
Hunk was terrified. What if Lance was dying? Hunk didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t yell. So instead he ran to find Pidge. She knew something was wrong by the way Hunk looked. She’s never seen him more scared. _

_Pidge yelled through the wall and pounded on the door. No response. She yelled at Hunk to just smash through the door._

_Just as he was about to, Lance opened the door. Eyes bloodshot, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, nose wet. You’d think he was crying. He wasn’t. “Hey.” Lance smirked, voice hoarse and scratchy._

_“Lance! What the fuck!” Pidge shouted at him._

_“What’s wrong?” Hunk had softly said, contradicting Pidge’s tone._

_Lance’s eyes brimmed with tears, and he couldn’t stop it. "Nothing." He couldn't stop himself from crying. “I’m sorry.” He whispered._

_“For wh-” Pigde looked at Hunk. She followed his line of sight. To the toilet._

_“Are you sick? Did the food give you this reaction?” Hunk had asked, knowingly. He was on the verge of tears._

_“No.” Lance had whispered._

_“Then what, Lance? Please tell me.”_

_“It- it was me.”_

_Neither of them answered. Pidge was confused. What other reason would there be for vomiting? It was him? What did that mean? He made himself throw up on purpose? Pidge’s eyes widened as she looked back and forth between Hunk and Lance. Oh._

_They spent the rest of Lance’s birthday on the floor, pillows and blankets spread out between them._

_They never talked about that exact moment again, but afterwards Pidge and Hunk always made sure Lance was eating, and not purging afterwards. Lance got angry at them the first few times, resulting in a bunch of crying and arguments, but It always ended with Lance between Pidge and Hunk’s arms._

_Several months later, and they thought he recovered._

_He thought he did too._

“Lance?” A hand on his arm shook him out of his thoughts. Lance turned his head to Keith.

“Um,” Keith took his hand off Lance's arm to rub his neck. “Shiro talked to me yesterday. I wanted to apologize to you, but I think you needed some space, so...” 

Honestly, Lance was only half listening. He looked around the table to find empty chairs. When had it only become him and Keith in the room? Lance scrunched his eyebrows together. He turned back to face Keith. 

“...yesterday. So sorry about that.” 

_What was he saying?_

Lance chuckled and gave a small smile. “It’s fine, mullet. I’m sorry too. Really.” 

Keith stayed silent for a few seconds, contemplating something. He then let out a sigh. “Okay, good.” He stood up from his seat and started walking to the door. “Let’s go, _sharpshooter._ ”

Lance scoffed. They walked together to the training room- which quickly turned into a race to see who could get there first. 

Lance didn’t realize it at first, but Keith started to get concerned for him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coping mechanisms at its finest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stream burning pile by mother mother ;)

Lance used to be terrified of change. 

Being somewhere with one of his best friends is nice. But being _in space, fighting in a war,_ of all things, sucks. It’s extremely lonely. And the silence - it’s suffocating. 

Now he craves it. _Change._

Anything else would be better than being trapped in the middle of space with no one who would even give a shit about you unless you’re dead. 

Sometimes, when things would feel too much, he’d take comfort in tearing skin off bones. 

More specifically, his. 

_And it feels nice._

He does it four different ways. 

One, with anything sharp. A way people usually first think of when it comes to self-harm. When he cut, he did it two different ways; fast and erratic, or slow and precise. The cuts would burn for hours after. 

Two, with fire. Surprisingly, he loved fire. He loved the water more of course, fitting for the blue paladin, but fire? Fire burned. And it felt good to burn.

Three. With his own fingers. Fingernails, to be exact. Scratching yourself, it feels good at the time, but horrible after you’re done. It basically feels the same as cuts, but you’re the knife. 

And four. Refusing the food that his body needs. Restricting, which leads to the burning hunger, and purging, which leads to scratched fingers and a throat that feels like it'll give up at any time.

He thinks that to most painful part of hurting yourself is the guilt that comes after it. 

_It’s shameful and disgusting._

_His body was a canvas._

And he fucked it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty for reading <3  
> Haven’t been writing much but here’s a short chapter. I’ll try to add more soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A talk + pidge/hunk/lance friendship.
> 
> prob the longest chapter so far.

Everyone on the ship was slowly starting to get concerned for Lance. He’d been more isolated. More- quiet. More _restrained._ Of course, he ate meals with everyone else, made jokes, smiled. But he just didn’t have the energy to be as flamboyant as he was. Everyone noticed.

Lance knew that sooner or later, he’d have to tell the truth to Hunk and Pidge. 

But right now, he was too tired. It’s funny how he does nothing all day and he still feels like taking a nap.

He hadn’t cried in weeks. He tried, though. Every night for the last several days, he wanted to cry, to wallow in his own pity and ugliness, but even his body wouldn’t let him. When he tried, no tears fell. 

Sometimes, he’d get so mad at himself that he’d sit up in his bed and bang the back of his head against the wall. Of course, no one heard. The castle was large, and empty, and silent, and deafening, all at the same time. He didn’t gain anything from it except for the dull ache in his brain.

Maybe one day he’d done so much damage to his brain that he’d just die on the spot.

The idea was almost laughable.

\--- 

He really wanted to talk to Hunk and Pidge, but he couldn’t muster up the courage. They were always working on something important, _and here Lance was, being completely useless._

He learnt things from his therapist back on Earth.

_“Challenge your thoughts, Lance.” She said._

_“Okay.” He replied. They sat in an awkward silence for a few seconds._

_“Just tell me any negative thought that often goes through your head. And i’ll help you through it.” She spoke up._

_“Uh, okay.” He gave one last wary glance to his therapist before looking down at his lap. “I guess...” Lance paused, trying to think of the right words. A negative thought? His mind blanked. He knew he got those, everyone did. But he just couldn’t think right now._

_He hated how sometimes his brain would just give up on him._

\---

Lance really wanted to tell Hunk and Pidge about his relapse. He knew they would comfort him in the best way possible. They rarely ceased to cheer him up. 

Lance supposes that they’ll just be too worried about him.

He doesn’t deserve their care. Their kindness. 

He shut his eyes. 

_No. They do care._

_Do they?_

_They do._

_I don’t want to be a bother._

_You already are._

He didn’t know what to think about that.

He shoved Pidge’s headphones on, turned up the volume, and flopped back in his bed. He stared at the ceiling as he listened to his music. When they had settled into space, he practically begged Pidge for days to download his favorite songs into his “space ipod”.

Someone knocked on his door right as he was about to fall asleep. 

Lance breathed out a sigh as he rubbed his eyes. He took his headphones off and walked to the door, a little irritated by the disruption, but it went away once he saw who was at the door.

“Uh, hi.” He croaked, looking back and forth between Pidge and Hunk.

“We need to talk, buddy.” The taller boy had said.

Lance’s heart went a mile a minute at that phrase. “Now?”

“Now.” Pidge had said through her glasses.

“Oh. Okay.” Lance softly chuckled as he worried at his lower lip. “Well, come in guys!” He turned around, letting them in. He laid back in his bed, putting both of his palms behind the back of his head.

He turned his head to Pidge and Hunk, who were just standing beside his bed. He chuckled. “You guys can sit, you know.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks.” Pidge had said. 

They sat down next to Lance on his bed. Lance was feeling unsettled. The air between them wasn’t necessarily awkward. It was serious.

“So…” Lance said, urging them to start speaking. Pidge and Hunk exchanged looks. Pidge raised an eyebrow at Hunk. They both turned to face Lance.

“Lance.” Hunk said.

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

Lance hated when people would ask him that. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate it, it was that he didn’t deserve it. 

“Yeah.” He tried to say, but unfortunately for him his voice sounded like he was just about to cry. 

Pidge gave him a pointed look. “Come on Lance. You know that we care about you.”

“I know.” His voice cracked.

“You’re our best friend. We love you, okay.”

“I love you guys too.” Lance whispered. He started to tear up.

_No. Don’t cry. Please, you idiot, please, please, please._

They sat in silence for a few seconds. Lance tried to turn away from them as more of his tears started leaking, but before he could, he was embraced by two pairs of arms. The only sounds evident at the moment were Lance's sobs.

Lance really wished he didn’t feel this way. He wished he could just get rid of all the horrible thoughts in his head so he can be happy. He wanted to sit in a room with people without constantly thinking that they’re plotting against him, or wake up in the morning without feeling like he’ll never be able to lift his legs to do anything. 

He wanted to do things without feeling like it was the end of the world.

When Lance's crying had died down to hiccups, he finally started to look at Hunk and Pidge.

“Sorry.” He said, even though he knew they wouldn’t get mad at him for crying.

They released Lance from their arms. “Don’t say that.” Pidge said.

“Lance. Please, tell us what's wrong.” Hunk had said, with his ‘lance, do what i say’ facial expression on. 

Lance honestly loves seeing it. And how could he say no to Hunk?

“I relapsed.”

Hunk and Pidge’s eyes had widened. They were scared. Possibly even more scared than Lance felt at that moment. 

The day he was caught purging by them, Lance had told them basically everything. His time at the hospital, all of his struggles with depression and anxiety, and his shame with his disordered eating. They knew so much about him, and he’s never felt more vulnerable.

He knew he could trust them, _it’s just embarrassing. He is flawed, and imperfect, and insecure, and so unbelievably weak._ But he couldn’t take back his words.

Hunk had held one of Lance’s hands, and Pidge held the other as they asked him questions.

“When?” Pidge started.

“A week ago.” He mumbled.

“Why?” Hunk whispered.

“Because,” Lance started to think about that day. Keith had asked a question. “Of what Keith said.” Lance was angry. He knows that he shouldn’t be mad at Keith for saying that since he didn’t mean to hurt him, but he did. 

Before Pidge or Hunk could say anything, Lance cut in. “But it’s not his fault,” He quickly added. “It’s mine.”

“Lance,” Hunk softly said, “What did Keith say?”

Lance pursed his lips and closed his eyes. “He said I ate a lot too quickly, and if i was okay.” Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “I know he didn’t mean anything bad, but it just made me realize how much I’ve gained, and how careless I am, and I promise it’s not his fault, it’s mine, I let it get under my skin and-”

A hand rested on his shoulder. “Buddy,” Lance opened his eyes to Hunk. “It’s neither of your faults.”

Pidge piped in. “You can’t control how you react to things.” She spared a concerned glance at Hunk before turning back to Lance. “Maybe… maybe you should tell everyone else about how you’ve been feeling.”

Hunk nodded. “You can tell them what triggers you, and we can make a plan to watch over you-”

“Wait.” Lance said, holding up a hand. “I don’t need anyone to watch me. I promise, you guys are enough. I don’t want more help than I need. Besides, we’ve got a war to win.” Lance forced a smile.

“You’re worth more than fighting Galra, Lance.” Pidge said, glaring at him. “You need to-”

Hunk cut her off. “Er- maybe… we should just keep it to ourselves. Just for a few days, to see how progress is going. Then we can figure out how to help Lance from there. I don’t want Lance to be uncomfortable.”

Pidge closed her eyes for a few seconds, and let out a sigh. “Fine. But promise us you’ll tell us when you’re feeling like you’re going to purge or restrict.”

“I promise.”

“And,” Hunk added, “if you just want to tell us anything at all, we’re here.”

“Thank you guys.” Lance said, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t put into words how much I love you guys.”

“We love you too.” Hunk replied, smiling. “Let’s talk more tomorrow. For now, sleep. That goes for you too Pidge.

Pidge groaned and forcefully shut down her laptop and set it aside. 

Lance let out a laugh as he grabbed all of his pillows and blankets and dropped them on the floor. 

Hunk had gone to both his and Pidge’s room for theirs, and when he got back, Pidge and Lance were already asleep on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm for reading ;) !!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Try your best, and they'll tell you you're not good enough.

It started the next morning. They’d just finished eating breakfast and went to spar in the training room. Lance was used to the exercises, but he was slower and more reckless with his punches than he was a week ago. 

Everyone else was doing great. Why did he have to be the only one doing horribly?

It’s _humiliating._

Pidge and Hunk kept sending him worried glances from across the room. He wanted people to look at him like he was admired, like he was strong. Not like he was going to break, because he was doing _fine._

“Lance watch out!” Keith had yelled behind his back. 

Lance couldn’t even turn around when the gladiator hit his legs and sent him to the ground. 

Lance groaned and cursed himself as he tried to pick himself up. A hand came into his vision and he looked up to Shiro. 

Lance let Shiro help him up. He mumbled out a thanks. 

“No problem.” Shiro smiled softly, lips curving up slightly. “Just try harder next time.”

Try harder?

_Try? Harder?_

“What?” Lance whispered, staring at Shiro’s shoes.

“I said, try harder next time. You’re doing great, and with practice, you’ll be amazing.” Shiro gave a genuine smile. 

_Shiro didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t. He-_

But he was already trying. Did no one get it? 

He was trying his best, and it still isn’t enough. Lance let out a hollow laugh. “You’re right. I need to try. Because i’m not fucking doing my best, right? I’m _so_ sorry that I don’t meet your standards and _I can’t be what you want_!” Lance raised his eyebrows as he looked up at Shiro. Shiro’s face morphed into a state of realization. He tried to reach for Lance, but Lance stepped back, putting a snarky smile on.

_I can never be what they want._

“Lance, I-” 

Lance scoffed and forced his smile wider. It was terrifying to see Lance, of all people, blow up like this.

Maybe they were shocked because they couldn’t understand a single thing about him.

“Lance!” Allura scolded. “I know things might be hard, and Shiro was out of line, but it doesn’t mean that you should talk to him like that!”

Lance’s smirk fell from his face as he shrugged, not making eye contact with anyone as he walked to the door. He hadn’t stomped away like he usually did when he was upset. He left in a silence. Hunk wanted to go after him, but Pidge held him back by his arm. “Hunk,” She said pointedly. Hunk solemnly nodded his head and stepped back next to Pidge. 

Hunk sighed, closing his eyes for a second before turning to Shiro. 

Shiro was sorry. It was evident on his face. His eyes were wide, his shoulders tense, mouth gaping, and fists clenched. “I didn’t mean to.” He whispered after another few seconds. 

“We know.” Keith said. His face seemed devoid of any emotion at first, until you saw his eyes wandering back and forth between Shiro and the door where Lance left.

Pidge was trying to not yell at Shiro. She knew he didn’t mean it. He would never actually mean it. But she was the only one besides Hunk who truly knew what Lance had been through. 

“Don’t do that again.” Pidge said. She and Hunk were trying not to seem mad, but everyone could basically feel the disappointment radiating off of them. 

Shiro nodded, stoic. “I promise.”

Hunk and Pidge shared a glance at each other before making their way to Lance’s room. Before they walked out of the training room, Hunk looked back at everyone else in the room before saying, “Sorry guys, but- you don’t even know the half of it.”

When they left, somehow the room turned more tense than it was before. 

\---

A quiet Lance was never a good Lance. He despises silence. And for him to be quiet? 

Once he entered his room, he paused and closed his eyes.

Stop. Breathe. Don’t be stupid.

He was shaking. His head felt heavy, his hands twitched, and his legs felt like running.

He clenched his jaw as he sat on his bed, rubbing the palms of his hands into his eyes to the point where he saw colors.

Try harder, Lance. Because your hardest? It isn’t enough.

“Stupid fucking brain.” He muttered as he removed his hands from his face. 

Fuck my brain, and fuck whoever made it this way. 

Lance shut his eyes, somehow thinking that if he did, everything would just go away. But nothing changed.

He clenched his fists, reveling in the feeling of pierced skin. And when even that wasn’t enough, he turns to punching his bed. His hard, uncomfortable bed, not fit for someone like Lance. And when he felt like he had to hurt more (because he deserves it), he results in hitting himself. 

Believe me, I think punching yourself seems dumb as fuck too. 

Despite everything, it was relieving. Bruises, and cuts, and scars, and knowing that they weren’t made by anyone else, and that it was because of you? It was almost empowering.

But it’s not. Because he knows he deserves it. It’s not actually his body. It’s whatever sickness is infecting him, taking over everything he needs to function.

And he deserves all of it. 

There was a knock on Lance’s door. And a voice. 

“Lance! Can we come in?” 

“Sorry, Hunk. Don’t really feel like it. Come back later.” Lance flopped back in his bed.

“Lance, open up! You said you would talk to us!” A higher pitched voice had said.

“Later!” Lance groaned.

“Let us in right fucking now Lance! Or I'm forcing my way in!” Pidge had yelled.

She would break his door. She might even get Hunk to help. Lance knew what they could do. They were _brilliant_ , and _powerful_ , and so _talented._

He was completely envious.

Lance stomped up to the door, opening it. “You’re like a freaking chi-” A pair of arms had wrapped around him, crushing him into the middle of a sandwich.

“Oh lord,” Lance choked out. Hunk took his arms away, giving Lance just a little bit more air to breathe. Pidge’s bone crushing squeezes didn’t seem to really qualify as a hug. Hunk had to tear her off of Lance before he fell unconscious from the lack of air.

Lance rubbed at his sore ribs while looking at Pidge and Hunk. 

Hunk sighed as he turned to Lance with concerned eyes. “Shiro’s really sorry,”

“Oh,” Was all Lance could say.

“But that doesn’t excuse how he made you feel.”

“Uh huh…”

Pidge slapped her hand over Hunks mouth. “Well…” She drawled out, batting her eyelashes at Lance, “Maybe… you should tell them. Like right now. Like, about all of your… stuff.” 

Lance gaped at her and tilted his head. “Oh fuck no-”

“Lance.” Hunk had said, taking Pidge’s hand off his mouth. “Please,” he said softly, tilting his.

_Oh no. This is his puppy dog act._

“Don’t start-” Lance got cut off by Pidge’s hand covering his mouth. He tried cursing her out but obviously, it was muffled.

“Huh?” Pidge cupped her open hand around her ear, smirking. “What was that? I can’t hear you, repeat what you said?”

Lance licked the palm of Pidge’s hand, which somehow in less than a second, made her fly to the opposite side of the room.

“LANCE!” She screeched. She was just about to jump on Lance when Hunk groaned and cut in.  
“Guys!” Hunk wiped a hand over his face. Waiting for Pidge and Lance to settle down before turning to Lance. “Pidge and I know more than anyone on this ship what you’ve been through. I know that you don’t like this, but it would be better for everyone if you let us help you. Please. Just let us help you.”

Lance pursed his lips. 

_Pros; Better relationships, more help, less suffering (hopefully)._

_Cons; Total embarrassment and pity._

Lance groaned, shutting his eyes once again. He really did not want to do anything right now. No confrontation, no talking, no problems. “This sucks.”

Hunk chucked. “Yeah, but at the end of the day this is your decision. Yours, and only yours. And we’ll be here the entire way.”

“Ugh, you are so cheesy.” Pidge leaned back on her elbows. 

“So, Lance? What do you want?”

Lance wanted freedom, and for his family to be happy. That was everything he wished for. He’d always felt like this was never his life- like he was just there. That he would grow up and be a complete failure, living a life, but not really living at all. 

What if one day, he’d completely lose it, hurt everyone he loved, and died alone? 

That might just be his biggest fear.

Somewhere deep in his brain he wanted help, he just felt like he didn’t earn it. He still doesn’t think he’s deserving of help yet. But he wants it so bad. He wants his friends to be happy for him, and he wants to be happy for himself.

So he resolves to tell the team. 

Kinda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm for reading also sry if i make shiro look like a dick ik he means well.


End file.
